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Friday, October 31, 2014

So the cat figured he would save the out to lunch for last. What? The insults shouldn't come that fast? She can take it fine, after all the Halloween Nazi may chop off your head and on it dine. Now ends the 100,000 convo run. When 200,000 comes we'll have more fun.

The Halloween Nazi is here,
Even with Halloween so near.
Don't you need to go turn into a witch?
Aren't you feeling that cackling itch?

How gruesomely fun to be here today.Bantering with you never causes dismay.You know I love Halloween at my abode.But if the cat isn’t nice, I’ll turn him into a toad.

Pffft if that came upon this guy,
I'd give you a wart right on your eye.
Then you'd live Halloween all year around.
But hey, plenty of acting gigs for witches can be found.

A wart on my eye would be extra sweetBetter than having them on my feet.Warts make witches look mean and scary.Kind of like Pat's back, which is all kinds of hairy.

You stared at Pat's back you say?
Was your crystal ball on the fritz that day?
The cat knew you had a thing for back hair.
I bet you have walls of it in your evil lair.

Back hair on the walls.Fingernail scrapes down the halls.My evil lair is quite a fright.Would the cat be brave enough to spend the night?

The cat knows who to call,
To clean the place from wall to wall.
So nothing will be a fright,
When I bring Mr. Clean's bald head in sight.

Mr. Clean isn't going to have your back.I have his head mounted on a plaque.You'll have better luck giving the Ghostbusters a ringIf you don't want to end up as my next play thing.

A taxidermist with a back hair fetish at your zoo.
Damn, your own reality TV show could come due.
And all I can say is, oh dear,
I'm snip snip and have nothing to play with, so no fear.

A reality series sounds like fun.Then the money I'd make by the ton!However, my potion recipes and what's buried under porch I need to hide.Best not invite the cameras in for prying eyes.

There you are. Now all know near and far not to knock on the Halloween Nazi's door. She really is something of lore. She will put you beneath her grass. She will never catch my little rhyming ass.

Thursday, October 30, 2014

An old throne chair, barely able to sit upright, held a thing that looked rather rare. Its hair was as white as a cloud and drool plopped from the things lip as it sat smug and proud. Its green scaly skin crawled like something was underneath it. The smell emanating from it was worse than a field of cow shit. It waved a stick with a dried potato on top, some slime, looking like snot, held it on top so it would not fall and go plop. It stood up and looked out a window from a tower high above the land, before extending its hand.
"Creator, I thank you for this gift you have bestowed upon the Earth."
"A curse I have brought, my curse to bear." Trucker hung his head to the floor, his clothes torn to shreds, his body beaten and his will gone to fight any more.
"A curse and a gift can be one in the same, depending on who is on the receiving end. For I, Babylon, King of the Zombies, have rose to power." Babylon gloated and when he smiled his gross body became even more bloated.
"At least most of the others shut the hell up. Finish it already." Trucker waited for the kill no longer wanting to smell Babylon and feel ill.
"Thanks to you I can speak. My body may rot from the inside out, I may be infested with parasites under my skin, but my mind is clear, allowing me to become king of the zombies and soon the Earth. You will live long enough to witness your creation." Babylon waved his hand and a few zombies locked Trucker in some medieval jail stand.
"You will rot like the rest of them until there is nothing left."
"At least I'll do it being king or everything." Babylon went back to his throne and the zombies near him just continued to obey and groan.
****************************************
Theresa had a devilish grin on her face as Keith gave Beate some flowers after a warm embrace. Rosey seemed to be contemplating what they should do. She felt these two were not as crazy as the beer crew. Manzinita came back from picking some herbs muttering to herself about zombies invading her burbs. She noticed the pair standing right on the trap and smiled as she began to clap.
"Two in love, even in this place. That is a wonderful sight to see. Too bad it won't last long." Manzinita snickered while Theresa and Rosey bickered.
"No! We can't!" Rosey slapped Theresa's hand from the lever. Manzinita was just having fun watching this endeavor.
"Keith, do you think we offended them somehow?"
"Maybe I pissed them off with my confession post. It had to be the size of the period one."
The pair stood in place, still hand and hand in their embrace. They tried to make sense of the cat fight going on, still unwise to the three's con. Theresa and Rosey fought on the ground and Manzinita just crept up without a sound. She waved to the loved birds and then threw the lever. She laughed as their love she sure did sever.
"Rack up two more girls, we'll get to two thousand kills yet." Manzinita went back to her herb stash while Rosey and Theresa continued to clash.
"I've had enough of your goodie goodie-ness. Here's my final giveaway and you win." Theresa pushed Rosey over the table top and into the hole she quickly did flop.
"Do we count her as a kill?"
"I think we count her as an unearned run."
Manzinita and Theresa cackled as one and waited on more victims so they could have more fun.
****************************************
Betsy's house remained spick and span, even with the addition of Brian, Mary, Hank, Alex and the rest of the dVerse clan. They all had to restrain themselves when a zombie passed by as all they really wanted to do was stab something through its eye.
Betsy left the group in the comfort of her lair and sneaked off someplace only known to a pair. Betsy and The Silver Fox. She had him stashed away behind a door with lots of locks. She walked downstairs and flipped on the light, grinning at a chained up Silver Fox's plight. He was hanging there with one leg chopped off and up blood he continued to cough.
"Doll, how could you do this to me?" Silver Fox whispered out, barely able to speak as he really wanted to shout.
"My house needs to stay clean. The zombies need to be fed. It is as simple as that, nothing personal."
Betsy gagged Silver Fox with some old dirty socks, dressed in pink overalls she found in some lost and found box, and then hacked off his other leg with a dull axe. She whispered for Silver fox to relax, then cauterized his wound. She had to go feed the zombies because some of her bushes needed to be pruned.
Betsy quietly went up stairs and fixed up a few hairs. She chucked Silver Fox's leg out the back door and quickly shut it to muffle the sound of the zombie roar. She turned to find Brian in her view and could tell with his gawk, he spotted some blood on her and had a clue.
"Sis, did one of the zombies bite you?" Brian was ready to kill them all until Betsy pointed to a door down the hall.
"Follow me. I will show you what happened."
Betsy lead Brian to her locked door and she unlocked it once more. She motioned for him to go down and then she gave him a big crown, as in a bump on his head. She whacked him with a bat, pushed him down the stairs and hoped he was not dead. She knew he would make good zombie feed. Brian was unconscious at the bottom of the stairs as Silver Fox continued to bleed.
****************************************
Drazin led the group with Pat and the cats following closely behind. They liked his glowing red eyes, whether or not he was a god of some kind. Night had fallen and they were lucky they could see. The last thing any of them wanted was to run into another super powered zombie.
"So where are we heading anyway, Pat? The feet are tired of the cat."
"I have no idea. The yellow brick road just seems to show itself any other time we get sucked into these worlds." Pat shrugged and could tell the cat was bugged.
"Ask Truedessa where to go. Maybe she can show us with some sort of glow?"
"It is worth a shot. We can't just keep following the godly mook." Cassie was tired as well and hoped they would soon find some place to dwell.
"The fleabags have a point." Drazin scouted a nearby alleyway and led everyone in when he spotted no zombies on display.
Pat cleaned the nastiness on the ground with his feet, kicking the garbage and stuff out onto the street. He then sat with his legs crossed and shut his eyes, then he felt some sort of weird cries. Seconds later he disappeared from view and Orlin and Cassie had too.
"Drazin saves you and you just leave Drazin here? Fleabags!" Drazin yelled to the sky and at whoever else he could who he deemed lived upon high.
Zombies began to moan and Drazin made his way out of the alley all alone. He let his eyes glow bright red, deciding it was best to avoid the undead. He headed for a nearby car and hoped that everything with it was on par. He yanked out the dead driver, and drove off, ever the survivor.
****************************************
Pat and the cats searched high and low, wondering where it was Pat's meditation made them go. Cassie was the least happy of the bunch as with all the rain coming down she would have to clean herself until well after lunch. Orlin did not seem to care, he just shook off and trotted around with his tail in the air.
"Pat! Orlin! Cassie!"
The group turned around and gasped at what was found. Truedessa was tied up in some sacrifice cross device and there was some phantom like zombie in front of her with dots over it in spots like that of dice.
"Stay back!"
"Don't listen to her. Come to me!" The zombie waved his hand and Pat started to move across the land.
"Pat, she said don't do that!"
"I'm wet, I'm tired and I'm sick of super powered zombies." Cassie muttered and leaped into the air. She then grabbed the zombie by what she deemed his phantom like hair.
"Ouch!"
"Wait! How can a zombie speak? Aren't their brains supposed to leak?" Orlin ran around and tripped the zombie, trying to figure out this undead talking spree.
Pat kept walking well Truedessa kept shaking her head, with wide eyes and gawking. She mustered up what little power she could and it turned the phantom zombie to a piece of wood. Pat stopped and shook his head, feeling as if he just had a bad dream in bed.
"That won't hold him for long. The zombie has psychic powers, this realm is an out of body experience. You have to shove it back in it....."
"Shut up!" The zombie turned back to its normal shape and made Truedessa's mouth be covered with a piece of duct tape.
"Back to what?" Pat tried to ask before the zombie went back to its task.
Orlin and Cassie tried to stop Pat but he kept getting walking all drone like while the zombie laid out the welcome mat. They then tried to break Truedessa free. But it was no use, the steal chains were even too tough for cat pee.
"The cat is fed up too. I think I know what to do."
Orlin ran up and kicked the zombie in the chest and then ran away, giving it his best. The number six lit up that he kicked. Cassie kicked his leg, hitting two, and hoped the zombie was licked. Instead the light coming from six disappeared from view and that is when the two got a clue. Truedessa nodded at the cats and they swooped through the night like bats.
"Some felines will never stop me. I am a psychic zombie. Your human is mine."
The zombie reached out for Pat's neck, ready to crush it and make him a wreck. Orlin kicked the six once more and Cassie kicked another six with her encore. Both lit up and they knew they were right. Both cats then jumped into the air and ended this fight. They simultaneously kicked the zombie in the forehead and another six lit up, causing him dread.
"Felines aren't that smart." The zombie shrieked as he disappeared from view, sent to someplace not so new.
"Six, six, six. That zombie took his licks. We sent him straight to Hell. I bet he won't find that swell."
Orlin gloated while Pat came to. Truedessa's binds disappeared from view. She floated to the ground and nothing but stars seemed to surround. Orlin gloated and ran around with flair, while Cassie cleaned up her wet hair.
"Does this mean she is back and Pat will go on the crazy attack?"
"Thy, we shall join up with the demon and put an end to this place." Pat acted like King Arthur once again as Truedessa was free from her pen.
"We better get through this zombieland before he thinks he is Elvis or something and hurts all of our ears."
"I second that."
"So does the cat."
The group laughed while the reality around them fizzled to nothing at all and they soon found themselves back in the alleyway with zombie shadows dancing along the wall.
"It's been fun but it's time we run."
Orlin and Cassie used their nose, even if Drazin did not smell like a rose, and took off in the direction Drazin went, hoping he at least found a safe tent. Pat and Truedessa ran behind them while zombies staggered about, dripping phlegm.

*******************************

Betsy, Manzi and Theresa are very mean. Poor Keith ended up very obscene. The grammar nazi is pretty much dead. Who knows how this will end as it is put to bed. But another one will come to pass, that you can count on from my little rhyming ass.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Back we are once more with another follower at my shore. I guess if it quacks like a duck it is hard to pass the buck. So the cat brought her here. She can rhyme away though in between quacking, have no fear.

A duckbill must be tough at your bay.
It really must cause some dismay.
No wonder Schultz does what he wants at your shack.
He can't understand no in the form of a quack.

It's true that a bill makes life a bit tough.And talking and eating can get kind of rough.But Schultz understandshe must follow commands,or Mama will be in a huff!

Will you huff and puff,
And all that stuff?
Must be easy to clean dog hair,
As I heard you were full of hot air.

My big bad bill blows a lot of hot air.It can get scary here at my lairwhen I see mud splats and hair ballsall over my walls!

But don't you admire the skill?
It takes a lot to make a mud hill,
Or get a hairball to splat on a wall.
Plus a good booby trap to make criminals trip down the hall.

The skill is astoundingand my applause is resounding, but when the splats stick for years these traps don't get cheers!

Some may see it as art.
Like that abstract stuff some take to heart.
Maybe a hairball Jesus face.
Then you could sell tickets at your place.

That's an interesting thought.Some tickets could be boughtto see hair ball angel wings,mud Santa tracks, and other such things.

And if all else fails,
And your fans give wails,
Just offer to kiss an octopus once more.
I bet they'd cheer you then at your shore.

A duckbill and octopus sharing a kissis a thing one most certainly would not want to miss.But the inevitable ink blob would soon hide the viewAnd the fans will be shouting, "Boo hoo!"

Well I guess she sure left you with an image in mind. With that image you'll sure be one of a kind. May not want to tell what it is though. See, even duckbill's can find the flow. Now I'll let that image get more crass as off I go with my little rhyming ass.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

So you still don't know what to go out as at your show? I guess the cat could put things all in a row. But did that last year. One plug it in plug it in is fine by my rhyming rear. Instead the cat will tell you. Easier to do.

Can't get a date?
No need to wait.
Grab a blow up doll,
Go as a horny old man at your hall.

Can't fly a plane?
Instead board a train.
Go as a train passenger this year.
See, easy and can drink beer.

Can't rock n roll?
Go take a stroll.
Go as a jogger.
Beats losing at Frogger.

Don't have any money?
Do something funny.
Go to work as an employee.
That has to be different for thee.

Can't take out the trash?
Well go for a splish splash.
Toss it on the ground.
Could become a hound.

Can't spread your wings and fly,
Like that Superman guy?
Well if you regret that, try,
Then a smudge you can go as while others cry.

Can't make a blog post?
No need to head for the coast.
Instead go as the brain dead.
Wait! Make that fluoride head.

Or grab a big block.
That will sure shock.
Say you are a writer.
That writer's block just pulled an all nighter.

Put on a fat suit,
Go as that Austin Powers brute.
Or if you want crazy fans,
Go as Honey Boo Boo banging pots and pans.

But if that isn't enough,
Time to get rough.
Rip your clothes off and go nude.
Hey, you'll be a birthday boy/girl, it isn't rude.

There you go, now you can go out to and fro and be something fun at your sea. Unless the smudge comes to thee. Then I guess you are screwed indeed. Better off with the first for your screwed deed. Now trot as one across the grass, there is no need to thank my little rhyming ass.

A glutton at your sea.
Like a cat in a tree.
Stuck on chocolate you seem to be.
How about we create a cure for thee?
Just picture Big Bird on a boat,
With each and every one of note.
Kutcher, Bieber and Bynes are there
Create a further visual if you dare.

"Dude what's that yeller Xmas treeDoin on this boat, Biebs? Come an see!"Biebs stops staring at his prepube chestTo follow Kutcher. (He likes him best)Then eyes Big Bird who sings a song:"Lil runt punk, you don't belong!"“Kid overboard!” Big Bird gloatsAs he kicks the Biebs clear off that boat.“Dude you’re not a tree and that’s just wrong!I didn’t get to use his bong!”The Bird sings to Kutcher. He’s on attack.“The 70s called. They want you back!”He snaps Ashton up by his beakTosses him at Biebs, a bong to seek.Bynes awakes and f*n whines,“You’re f*n ugly! Let’s do some lines.”Bird lifts Amanda by her thongAnd tosses her in gleeful song“You troubled girl, get a grip. Sink or swim. Don’t give me lip!”His work is done. Bird rows to shore.A brighter world, forever more.

Wow, she got mouthy I'd say. I guess the cat just brought it out at his bay. Who knew big bird was such an attacker? I guess he's not a slacker. Any bad visuals for you? I am sorry if you got one or two. Yeah, I'm not really sorry class. It is enjoyed by my little rhyming ass.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

The cat has not gone the limerick road in a while, so I figured it was time to turn that dial. I am sure Halloween will work just fine to go all limerick like for the feline.

A black cat was walking away,
When it crossed kids at play.
The children ran,
They weren't a fan,
Of possessed Aunt May.

When walking down the street,
A man stopped for a treat.
He got his fill,
With an exploding pill,
Becoming goo on the concrete.

A pirate was out on a date,
He found his second mate.
His first was home,
Not wanting to roam,
Waiting to turn him to fish bait.

There was a happy Halloween clown,
That was never able to frown.
The kids would tease,
He would yell freeze,
Spraying them with something brown.

A kid high on candy,
Thought an object was handy.
He ran up the street,
Showing his treat,
Stealing the toy of old Mandy.

A woman was stirring her pot,
Having come up with an evil plot.
She cast her spell,
Then gave a yell,
Theresa's hair got caught in the pot.

A woman was out of money,
So she dressed as a bee to collect honey.
The honey she found,
Was rather profound,
She should have been a bunny.

A man went dressed as a rock.
He thought his costume was a lock.
It had to win,
The Halloween pin,
It did and got pinned to his cock.

A ghost floated down the road,
Stealing candy by the bucket load.
It wanted more,
So continued to soar,
Finally hitting the commode.

An Oompa Loompa joined the parade,
Wishing this Halloween would never fade.
He got his wish,
Now friends with a fish,
Poor Oompa Loompa just wanted to get laid.

And there you are, some limericks with Halloween the star. The cat tried not to go too dirty as the search engine nuts may get even more flirty. But had to for some indeed, they just slipped out at my feed. Now I am through with the sass from my limerick writing little rhyming ass.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

So the cat can see faces once more, some are fun, others are a bore. But either way all that mess just causes the cat dismay. Why bother with such a thing when you can carve faces in other things at your wing?

Look at the above,
If guts you love,
Go for it.
Get your surgeon on a bit.

But two in one,
Could easily be done.
Grab the mutt and shave,
It will sure be a fav.

If your mutt has hair.
Could create a face that is rare.
Plus get a hair cut.
Two in one with the mutt.

Heck, do it to a human head.
Some hair just causes dread.
A carved mohawk for the gawker.
That would be a shocker.

The grass could still be green,
At many a scene.
So mow a face in the lawn.
Could also play an alien crop circle con.

Make a face out of money.
That would be funny.
Then pay your rent.
No need to spend a single extra cent.

Wear a mask.
That is an easy task.
Then you can be scary,
With a face like a strawberry.

Or just ask a cat,
They will help you stat.
Show a bit of skin,
Some scratches will turn into a facial win.

Draw a face on paper,
Such an easy caper.
Then tape it to the door.
Face and showing off skills at your shore.

That is a win win.
Aren't I helpful at my bin?
Screw the pumpkin,
That is just a sin.

See, no need to make a mess, you can do more with less. The cat will help all too. Just line up at my zoo. A scratch here and a scratch there and you'll have a new tattoo at your lair. You may shout something crass, but that never bothers my little rhyming ass.

Friday, October 24, 2014

So there was a time when a big big blabbermouth gave a chime, then she went poof from her blabbermouth chime. Came back for a bit, then poof, took off in a fit. The cat got her to come back once more, although by the time this runs she may be back at her shore.

Back? Don't hold your breath,
Strawberries may bring her death.
The flip flopping blogger is here,
Can she still blabber off one's ear?

Anti-blabbers best get scared.This girl is always blab prepared.I am alive but hiding for a little while.Blogging thoughts still make me smile.

Well at least you can hide with ease,
Go wherever you please.
Duck down and hide in the cupboard at your sea,
No one will ever find short thee.

The cupboard is your spot, silly cat.I would never hide in a place like that.I no longer go to my Starbucks nook.I barley even have time to read a book.

Not time to sit at your nook or read?
That is just unbearable indeed.
Maybe don't shop for so much shampoo,
Then all kinds of time will come due.

The days and nights are way too short.It leaves little time to do things for sport.Yet, I always will make time for my hair.Au natural blabber would give the world a scare.

Geez, no things for sport.
That has to put a kink in things at your fort.
Has to halt your glee of oui oui in french,
You're meowing can't like that monkey wrench.

I think another vacation is due.Maybe ill come to canada and visit You.The outhouse musuem is a must see!Besides, I know the cat must miss me.

Didn't you just have one?
I guess nothing wrong with sand and sun.
Unless you step in something buried there,
Then you'd have to wash more than your hair.

I really enjoyed rhyming with you, cat.Next time lets invite Pat.Then he can bring his Walmart butt crack crew.Im sure with them more than rhymes will come due.

And there is Blabber back. She really has a thing for the Walmart butt crack. I guess she stares at them every day. No wonder she has no time at her bay. Maybe she needs to do something less crass. It sure beats my little rhyming ass.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

The sun rose on a new day and all actually looked right as Betsy stepped out enjoying her stone statue display. She missed her fifty cats but she was glad she did not have to arm herself with barbed wire bats. She swept the deck and made sure to get every speck. Betsy smiled as a zombie came out of her house. It was actually as quiet as a mouse.
"Take your friends and clean the yard, mow the grass and trim the trees." Betsy commanded like a dictator of some sort. She seemed to have a regular zombie court.
The zombies gave a moan and listened at the tone. Betsy seemed to give off a smell that reminded them of Hell. When any zombie came near her the lines begin to blur. They all followed her commands and demands.
Betsy saw a familiar group hobbling down the street. The zombies all turned to them smelling fresh meat. She spotted Hank first just marching along, whistling his number one song. It reminded Alex he had no guitar and could no longer become a rock star. Brian and Mary lead the rest of the dVerse crew. They all stopped in awe as Betsy and her pet zombies came into view.
"I am number one! But that is just strange." Hank was ready to fight as he kept every zombie in sight.
"Brian, your twin has gone off the deep end." Mary whispered and began to back away, hoping Betsy was not crazy and wanted to cause them dismay.
"Rotten Creepers! Now there is a name for a good band." Alex was still whining while the zombies dreamed about nothing but dining.
Betsy waved her hand and her zombie pets went back to tending her land. Brian gawked and took it all in. He saw what she was doing and did not think it a sin.
"So you are here too? Just another thing we have in common." Brian opened her gate and walked in tempting fate.
"Repoing cars would have been a lot easier with them around, huh?" Betsy joked and invited everyone in. They all thought she stunk worse than a drunk covered in gin.
****************************************
"So if I pray to you oh godly one, will the zombie nuns go away?" Cassie licked her paw as the zombie nuns beat on the door making their hands even more raw.
"Shut up, fleabag. Drazin has a plan." Drazin smirked and then left the room. He had a look that said he was going to cause them doom.
"Are we just going to let him go run to and fro?"
"Orlin you know you don't always have to rhyme, right?"
"Sorry, but I have to or I may piss off the crew."
Pat shook his head and leaned back in his chair. The group all heard Drazin give out a loud swear. Orlin whacked the monitor and they all laughed at him. He stubbed his toe and there was nothing else too grim. They followed him on the security feed and began to catch on to his plan as it came to seed.
"Drazin hates damn zombies, but zombies nuns. Drazin guesses with rotting flesh they sure are holy now." Drazin kept talking to himself as he picked some things off a shelf.
Drazin marched up some stairs and began putting things in pairs. He mixed and matched and before long everything was batched. He stood on top of the roof of the mall and gave one more grunt to all. Then he lit his creation and let it go to his elation.
"Oh that is just nasty." Pat curled up his nose and his toes.
Zombie nun brain splatted on the security camera feed. Drazin's bomb sure did the deed. Zombie nun parts flew everywhere. There was not even enough left to make a matching pair.
"I guess the godly one answers prayers after all."
"But I have to tell, after that, he may end up in Hell."
Pat turned away from the screen as the cats licked themselves clean. Drazin marched back into the room and sat down enjoying his big boom.
"Now that Drazin took care of that, you fleabags can take care of the rest."
"Oh good job Drazin. Your mind really is as small as a raisin."
Orlin looked out over the balcony window and seemed to be enjoying the show. Adam was caught in the act. He became zombie lunch for his final fact. Drazin had blown the door open too. Now zombies were entering the mall two by two.
"Good going, godly mook."
Cassie and Pat looked for a way to scat. The bottom half of the mall was filled to the brim. Things really did look grim. Their only chance was to go to the roof after Drazin's big goof. The group took off for it, avoiding the zombies and their spit. They slammed the door shut behind them and Pat brushed off a little zombie flem.
"Pat, what are you doing?" Cassie looked on, quite confused, while Orlin was rather amused.
Pat had pushed Drazin aside and opened the door, which looked like it was going to come off with each zombie roar. The zombies filed out one by one and as they did, they were done. Pat shot light beams from his hand and turned each zombie to grains of undead looking sand. They melted and piled up into a hill, eventually blocking the door from any more zombies as they got their fill.
"Damn, fleabags. Drazin is really impressed with your human. When he doesn't have the voices in his head he can do a lot."
Pat fell to one knee and smiled at Orlin and Cassie. He looked up at Drazin who finally got a clue as Pat started to go from one to two right in his view.
"Drazin knew it. It figures you had to get that crazy woman to do all the work. Drazin takes back what Drazin said about your human, fleabags." Drazin marched to the side of the roof while the spirit of Truedessa lingered above the ground and then went, poof.
"She's getting closer to taking form, then crazy Pat will once again be the norm." Orlin trotted off to the edge and one by one the group stood at the ledge.
"So now what?"
"What are you asking Drazin for, fleabag?"
"You did cause this, you godly mook."
Drazin and Cassie bickered for a while and then the four of them stared at something far more vile. It was creeping slowly up the street and they knew this zombie was going to be tough to beat.
****************************************
Optimistic Existentialist and Beate trotted hand and hand across the zombie land. They noticed the beauty in the guts sprawled on the outside of huts. They awed at some zombie guts in the shape of a heart outside of an old run down corner mart. The pair walked in, taking it as a sign, cheery about there being no line.
"Why would people waste all of this stuff?" Optimistic asked as he went through the trash, thinking they could have quite the bash.
"Because they don't see the beauty in it like you." Beate rubbed his back and readied a kissing attack.
"What do we have here?" A big buffoon pranced on in, with a huge R on his t-shirt he thought no one could do him in.
The pair eyed his bat, not finding any beauty in that. The large guy was rather round as he pranced about trying to be profound. Optimistic Existentialist shielded Beate behind him, sensing things were going to get grim. He searched for a weapon in the rubble below and found something that made the big R t-shirt wearing buffoon shout, "Oh no!"
"See, there is beauty in everything. Except maybe him." Beate grabbed the Superman t-shirt from him and threw it on top of the buffoon on a whim.
"No! R is the strength, not S. S...it...can't be....an S...noooo!"
The R t-shirt wearing buffoon cried like a little girl while the pair took off in a whirl. They did not know how long it would last and wanted to make him a thing of the past. They continued hand and hand down the street, spying a lemonade stand in the distance and wanting to beat the heat.
****************************************
Drazin and Pat's jaws were wide open and down to the ground as the super powered zombie left huge foot prints in the ground. It was the size of the jolly green giant and looked rather defiant. It was cement through and through. The thing was like a moving, drooling statue. It shook the land as it came near. It sure looked like something to fear.
"Fleabags, does that super powered woman inside you human's head have a way out of this?"
"She's out of juice and has to recharge. We get to deal with this bad Pokemon rip off thing ourselves." Pat picked his jaw up off the floor and knew this was going to be a chore.
"As long as we don't miss let's kill it with piss."
"Drazin thinks the fleabag has gone insane."
"For once I agree with the godly mook." Cassie gave Orlin a strange look and watched as he started to scale down the wall like a crook.
Orlin began trotting down the road looking as if he was in full on "I've got to pee mode" and jumped onto the super powered cement zombie's toes. He then took a leak causing the zombie woes. It went right through, melting the zombies feet, which impressed the rest of the crew.
"Drazin takes it back, the fleabag is good for something after all." Drazin laughed and everyone watched as the zombie fell to the ground, making a rather large sound.
"I guess it's my turn." Cassie licked herself once again and jumped down leaving the two men.
"Drazin can't believe this."
"Yeah, you can beat cement zombies with cat piss. Who knew."
Pat and Drazin stood above amused as the zombie was rather confused. Cassie took a leak on his other foot rather girlie like and no longer could the zombie hike. He lied on the ground just flailing around.
"Looks like it is time Drazin...."
"Oh he didn't."
The two curled up their nose, it was bad enough with the toes, but Orlin moved up carefully to the zombies neck and soon the zombie was one big wreck. Orlin pissed on his neck and it went right through. The super powered cement zombie's head fell off and no longer could he spew.
"That's an awful way to go, even for a zombie."
"Beheading by cat piss, Drazin has truly seen it all."
Cassie and Orlin both circled around the dead zombie's head, quite proud of themselves for causing the zombie dread. Pat and Drazin carefully climbed down from the rooftop, making it about half way and then just letting themselves drop.
"Aren't you glad the cat had to go right on that zombie's toe?" Orlin pranced at Pat's feet and as Pat brushed him he took a seat.
"It was very umm creative of you. I guess I will rhyme too."
"Drazin isn't rhyming, but good job, fleabags."
Cassie licked herself clean and Orlin stopped making a scene. The group scampered away before the zombies left inside the mall came their way. They had full stomachs and were relieved, as they left the super powered cement zombie way more than peeved.
****************************************
"And that makes eighty five percent of the world's bloggers dead. These cockroaches will soon no longer be a thorn in my side." Dr. Zoggif gloated until there was a knock at his door and then came another knock encore.
"Alan, what are you doing in there? You are going to run the electricity bill through the roof."
"Mom, go play bingo and leave me alone. I told you not to invade my space."
"When you get a job and pay some bills I'll leave you alone. Now open this damn door."
Dr. Zoggif sighed and sucked back some pride. He walked over and open the door a crack, listening to his mother's rant attack.
"When are you going to get work? Where is that nice girl you had in here? Why don't you ever go outside?"
"When my master plan is through, I'll never have to worry about any of that."
"Hurry up with your master plan or you'll be out on the street."
His mother stomped up the stairs and Dr. Zoggif gave her some evil glares. He then locked the door once again and retired back to the chair in his den. He saw eighty six percent of bloggers were now dead and began dreaming of care free days at club med.

******************************

Betsy getting zombies to clean? That about fits with her scene. Bloggers everywhere are biting the dust. Who can you really trust? We shall see what comes to pass as the adventures continue from my little rhyming ass.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

So as we continue to near 100,000 comments at my lair out of the woodwork comes Irish Air. I hear her airline is really dead. That has to fill her full of dread.

It's Irish Air and her miniature affair,
Along with planting a bazillion gardens at her lair.
High on paint and high on manure,
Do they have a certain allure?From Canada he came,cross borders he slipped,into my garden, the Cat he did trip,then raising his tail high in the airhis yowls filled the nightwith quiet despair.

So there are two cats from Canada you say?
Aren't you the popular one at your bay.
Maybe the yowling is a hint of some sort,
That you should watch the viking fat chewing sport.

There's only one Cat says Anne of Eirethat's as fetid and foul as you I swear,for the scat left behind was moldy as slimeand the odour so dank it befouled the air.

Sounds like you are in heaven,
You should find another seven.
Then you'd never want to leave,
The air so great all day you'd hack and heave.

My spies see the things that you doeven watch when you go to the looyour ass is so hairy it's really quite scary.

So I guess you went to Walmart,
Found a few ass cracks while pushing a cart,
And asked them to spy on the cat.
Cheap rates, or something like that?

The only wayto get them therewas to fly cheap flightson O'Leary Air.

Cheap flights you say?
They charge to take a leak over the bay.
I guess you waved that fee.
Any famous last words from thee?

Don't forget your boarding passfor that, we'll charge you out the assbeds and blow jobs those are freebut we charge for the air that you breatheso if you want to go from here to therefly with us at O'Leary Air.

I guess the mile high club is as easy as can be to join when you fly with her airline across the sea. Although judging by the flight crew, you might want to forgo that and hide in the loo. That would be far less eww from what I hear. Or maybe just drink a ton of beer. Now Irish Air is through with her convo pass. Almost as bad as an old one eye visiting my little rhyming ass.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Here we are once more, still on a run at my shore. The search engines nuts just keep showing up. They come to my place like a bone calls to a pup.

"can humans be retromingency"

Ummm unless they came out the wrong way, I'll go with no at my bay.

"master deen.gocker"

The Gawker has fans that can't spell. At least he has fans, so what the hell.

"bus blow jobs"

Do I even want to know? I vote, hell no!

"some ride, some walk and some talk"

Some eat, some spit, some chew. See, I can do it too!

"his naked clones"

Sounds like they are looking for the ninja wannabe. Alex, did you go all nude-y?

"Free breast milk at my door"

That is service I suppose. Do they come and strike a pose?

"Matter is only what people believe"

Getting all cryptic at my feed. Or making me think, indeed.

"Starlight, star bright, can my daddy fight"

Where the heck did that come from? Maybe if daddy gets in some rum?

"Reminders to go play hacky sack"

Maybe a post it note would be a good thing to get your vote?

"The mummy bumping uglies with Fraser"

George of the Jungle and the Mummy in a tree? Now that is scary.

"1000 ways to make you rich."

I'll take one to scratch that itch. Come on, give me the best pitch.

"My toe is talking to me."

Chop the sucker off, quick! A talking toe can be a really prick.

"cars break and fail to run."

My, aren't you the insightful one. I bet you are the brains of the family under your sun.

"Is snacking on snails good for you?"

How should I know? Does this look like the rhyming bird show?

And now we have the winner of this round. It seems they toned the swearing and gas search down at my mound. Instead they now have the strange and new, at least that is mostly true.

"Chew fat on women and farting, big tun on"

That one is all Anne's fault bringing up the viking woman at my vault. But hmmm somehow I think that is a bit too kinky. Maybe they should stick to a slinky? The winner can't even spell with this pass, but it could not be passed up by my little rhyming ass.

Monday, October 20, 2014

So the conversation guests today are two in one as they have their say.
But after my foray into cow testicle eating and my zombie feet treating, I
figured we should empty the seating. So A Beer For A Shower comes trick or
treating. Let's see if they can top used condom dumpster divers and bear
rape. Warning, we may cut the red tape.

B&B the cat may believe,
That you have nothing left up your sleeve.
How can you top your previous actions?
With gems like Wrestlers, Mormons and allergic reactions?

We just don't know if you can top your book *A Fart Apart*Maybe you can buy something gross from the Fart MartIf all else fails, inseminate a rotting pumpkinOr maybe receive a post-burrito blumpkin

Wouldn't you get some kind of dry rot?
That would sure irritate your umm walls a lot.
But should a book to top that you need,
Have Slim educate on "The Secret Meaning of Cat Pee" for a read.

You don't get dry rot you actually get blue wafflewhich is a sort of gooey, pustule infected vaginal kerfuffle And the homeless do love their toilet wine, Tasting like watery, sour yogurt with a touch of cat pee brine.

So their toilet wine is like a swimming pool?
Drinking chlorine, Giardia and 0.14 grams of fecal matter is cool?
And 1 in 5 swimmers piss in the pool too.
Damn, market that and the dough will be rolling in for you.

We prefer to sell Krokodil, the Russian zombie drugMake your skin rot into green cream cheese covered in bugsThen just shave it all off, breathe in that wonderful Kroko smellPut it in a tortilla and open your very own Taco Bell

Those high after eating Balut must think it sweet,
To add such a treat that will rot them head to feet.
Then Jocelyn Wildenstein will be crowned queen,
That plastic creation has nothing left to eat, not even a spleen.

So let's celebrate with tubgirl and a quadruple amputee,Get everyone together and don't forget goatse,Bring two girls, one cup, and some BacardiThen we can have a big fat lemon party.

Add some sheep sweat to create a certain aroma,
Have everyone board the Oscar Mayar Wiener mobile to Oklahoma.
Take center stage with "Old MacDonald" to farm life that never shave.
Let dandruff fill your nostrils ushering in a new "Things done in the barn come home with you" wave.

Make sure you bring your Velcro glovesSo you can give those sweaty sheep some proper loveAnyway, after all this gross rhyming the taste left behind is sourSo if you'll excuse us both we each need a mental shower.

And that is what happens when the beer guys get with the rhyming cat, the rhymes make your lunch want to go splat. I excuse you to go take a shower or three there at your sea. And no one even got crass with this sass that came to pass from the beer guys and my little rhyming ass.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

So the other day the cat had karma get revenge on Pat, if you believe in that karma tit for tat. Anyway, he was out and about and stuck in the car squirming like a trout on top a sand bar. Put me in that cage will he? Payback is nice even if it wasn't because of me.

Driving along.
Nothing wrong.
Playing a song.
Maybe singing along.

When oopsy, stuck.
Crap out of luck.
Accident maybe?
Causes no glee.

A cop here and there.
A cop everywhere.
Firetrucks too.
Paramedics up the wazoo.

Place burning down?
Maybe the whole town.
Still rather stuck.
Move it, truck!

Slink out and around.
A new path is found.
Damn it! Blocked again.
Like a confused hen.

Back another way.
Tired of the maze play.
Yippee, I got away.
Damn it! More join the fray.

Stuck once again.
Hate those policemen.
Lights are out as well.
This really is hell.

45 minutes later,
Crawl like a gator.
Finally out of there.
Let loose a final swear.

Gave them all hate.
At a high cursing rate.
Good thing traffic isn't like New York.
I'd want to stab all with a fork.

But what was the cause?
They may deserve an applause.
For Pat could have went boom!
That might have brought gloom.

Some construction worker hit a natural gas pipeline. I guess natural gas isn't divine. The odds of it going boom were really high. Thankfully there were no fireworks in the sky. So being blocked was a good thing, even if the curses Pat did fling. Could have been worse you know. At least he didn't have to go. I guess I'll have to work on my gas, it's not quite as explosive when it comes from my little rhyming ass.

The dog went on the floor.
Typical butt sniffer lore.
But it is all its fault.
I never locked it away in a vault.

Who cares if I was away,
It was just for a day.
Not my fault the pup went on the floor.
Do I have to do every chore?

Come what may,
I'm sick today.
I just can't do it.
See the color of my spit?

Poor poor me.
I hurt my knee.
I got a paper cut too.
There is nothing I can do.

Lazy humans near and far as they go as slow as if they were walking through tar. What else is there to say? Maybe they will whine more for you at your bay. Don't you want to hear the excuses of each lad and lass? Should just do it and it is done like my little rhyming ass.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Another guest has come due to mark 100,000 comments drawing near at my zoo. This one is always cheery, it can be kind of eerie. mail4rosey is the name. She is even nice to the cat with her final claim.

So the cat has to know,
Any more stories at your show?
After getting shot in the butt,
What can top that at your hut?

Not much can top an aching rearNo chance encounters with Richard GeerThough Geer is not my cup of teaHe's not as fly as my hubby

Not even when he can sing and dance?
The guy can really prance.
But Morgan Freeman is more your style.
I hear you wait for his voice to dial.

"Kiss the Girls" showed his voice to be sweet,but Morgan Freeman is not my treat. Travel is where my heart lies But not without my daughter and guys.

No Along Came A Spider?
I guess you'd rather have Chinese cider?
No doorway to hell or Timbuktu?
Geez, never take suggestions at my zoo.

'Along Came a Spider,' I did not seeI'll take your suggestion, take your decreeIf the movie's not good, that's okayIt's still a fun way to spend part of a day

More fun than toes in the sand,
That make the feet scream, "grand!"
Just a little fyi for you,
If the sand is squashy another thing may have come due.

You are making fun of my happy feetbut the sand in St. Joe can't be beat Squashy sand over there is not aloud(allowed...oopsy)Doodie bags are dispensed to the doggie crowd

Ahh but a cat
Doesn't have to abide by that.
So how will this end?
Any final message you wish to send?

Regal cats don't go poo!Ask your felines, it's oh so trueMy final words are ones of praiseFor you and all your rhyming ways

Praising the cat? How about that? The cat can show zombie feet and still get praised at his street. I guess I have loveable gas or something else from my little rhyming ass.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Pat awoke to being poked by a stick. He was startled and swatted the thing like it was a Lyme diseased tick. He looked up to find Anne in some Amazonian type outfit. Orlin let loose a hiss and spit. Cassie just licked herself while Elsie slept like a strange little cyclops elf. Drazin just shook his head, thinking he was in for more dread.
"Drazin knew where there was the cyclops there would be the Irish."
"What are you supposed to be? Xena?"
"Quiet you eejits. Why did you take my bride?" Anne smacked Pat over the head with her stick. He was ready to pelt her with a brick.
"Damn it! That hurts. Take your Hitler Xena someplace else."
"Drazin thinks she is the crazy one this time. At least crazier than usual." Drazin's eyes glowed a bright red as Anne whacked him over the head.
"You eejits are on your own this time. This sewer is my palace and Elsie is my bride. We are lesbian Amazonian princesses in this place." Anne declared with a sincere look on her face, for everyone else that was not the case.
"Yep, the godly mook is right. She's gone crazy." Cassie stopped licking and moved back not wanting to suffer an Anne attack.
"Maybe she sniffed too much paint or that manure in her garden went to her head and her brain it did taint."
"Cat, shut up you arse licker." Anne tried to whack the cat but he was too fast and avoided that.
Elsie finally woke up to the laughter of the group. They thought Anne was throwing them for a loop. But silence overcame them as Anne helped Elsie to her feet. Their lips then gave each other a treat.
"Drazin can't say Drazin didn't see this coming." Drazin curled up his nose and got to his feet. He was ready to leave them and get back on the street.
"Let's leave Xena and Old One Eye to their umm pleasures." Pat stated as he began to follow Drazin out. The two cats followed but all stopped when Anne gave a shout.
"You are welcome to stay under my rule."
"Drazin would rather get eaten by zombies."
"I'm with the godly one. Anne suffering from manure in her brain is so strange I just want to run." Orlin trotted off ahead of Pat. He just shrugged and left Anne and Elsie where they were at.
The group stepped out onto the street and they could hear Anne singing a tune. It kind of sounded like she was howling at the moon. They knew that may bring zombies near, so they all ran away in fear. They kept going until they came to a shopping complex. Drazin kicked the door in after a good flex. Pat and Drazin locked the door tight and everyone turned around ready to fight.
"Do we really need to star in another Dawn of the Dead remake?" Pat muttered as they looked for trouble, but the place was spotless, there was not even any rubble.
"Pat, this must please your OCD. It is so shiny."
"Yeah, as shiny as the godly mook's bald head."
"Shut up, fleabags. Drazin will turn you to slippers."
"Intruders! Intruders! Intruders!"
The group stopped bickering as they glanced around, each trying to find what kind of trouble would be found. The alarms rang out across the store with flashing red lights after every "Intruder!" encore.
"Oh isn't this just great. We go from Dawn of the Dead to Short Circuit meets Avatar." Pat yelled when robots came into view. There was a whole army of them and they were all blue.
"Drazin really really hates robots."
The robots marched toward the group with their fingers pointed at them all. Then they peeled back like a fold up wall. Guns appeared on each finger. The group took off not wanting to linger.
****************************************
A cheery lemonade stand with flowers all around it stood at the edge of a pit. Rosey and Theresa sat there smiling wide. In their free lemonade and flower giveaway they took such pride.
"Rosey, here comes a zombie. Let's give him some free flowers."
"That is a great idea."
The pair giggled like school girls in their seats while the zombie looked at them like they were treats. Rosey stood up and stuck out her hand. The zombie thought an easy meal was grand. It stepped up almost to the table and Theresa waved bye. She hit a button and the zombie fell through a trap door, proceeding to fry. Rosey dropped the flowers down behind it. The pair then gloated quite a bit.
"That makes nine hundred and ninety eight zombies killed, Theresa!"
"Two more and we've got the record. I just know we've got the record. If anyone argues they can go down the hole of doom."
The pair cackled some more and seemed to enjoy the zombie gore. Two pairs of eyes stared on from a bush. They both then yelled as they got poked in the tush.
"Bryan, your fat ass got us caught. Maybe you should lay off the beer."
Brandon and Bryan were forced out of their hiding place by another, one old enough to be their grandmother. Manzinita pushed them along with her walking spikes. The pair began picturing their head on pikes.
"Bryan, what do you call a headless beer guy?"
"Is now really the time?"
"Light beer."
The pair snickered and watched Rosey and Theresa's eyes light up as Manzinita lead them to the table like they were a leashed pup.
"These two zombies make one thousand!" They both declared and the beer guys knew they had no hope of being spared.
"I knew we should have never went into a woman's purse."
"Where is a freegan when you need one?"
"Wait! They talk?" Rosey stood stunned as she looked over the pair. Theresa simply did not care.
"These two are a pair of those special zombies, they have the power of speech." Manzinita pushed them to the front of the table. The pair tried to explain that it was all a fable.
"We only look like this because we tried to blend in. Have mercy on us."
The three women did not seem to buy it. They thought they were a couple of crazy zombies that needed to go to the pit. All three stood with their arms crossed. The beer guys knew they had to get lost.
"Well we will just be going now. No trap doors for us."
"They must be psychic zombies, Rosey. They know about our trap." Theresa held her hand over the button in wait, ready to send them to a fiery fate.
"I'm not so sure."
"Lies, all lies!" Manzinita declared and whacked Theresa's hand with her stick. It went down and the beer guys heard a click.
"Blood thirsty old coot. We beat zombies but were done in by a geriatric."
"She must have some really good beer."
The beer guys fell to their doom, melting and charring like fire would to a mushroom. The three stood over their pit and each dropped some flowers into it. They danced and cheered as a few more zombies neared.
"One thousand! We have hit one thousand kills."
"Why not make it two thousand." Manzinita sat down behind the table and grinned. She was ready to kill all who sinned.
****************************************
Drazin hurled a weight at the nearest robot as he hid in a fitness store. Pat grabbed a surf board and let it soar. It took off the nearest robot's head. Cassie and Orlin both hid in a nifty cat bed. It was more of a box. But they were just glad it did not have any smelly socks.
"There are too many of these things. Where the hell did this i, Robot nonsense come from?"
"Drazin does not know, but Drazin has had enough. No one shoots at the Great God Duke Drazin."
"The godly mook is dead."
"Yeah he is toast. I wonder if robots eat roast?"
Pat and the cats watched as Drazin steadied his golden armor and trotted out with what looked to be a pitchfork of a farmer. He dodged and ducked and stabbed each robot that was near. A bullet or buzz saw did not even graze his ear.
"The godly mook has been practicing."
"Pat, why can't you do that."
"Hey, I have Truedessa in my head."
Drazin curled his nose up as he stood over the busted machines. They were torn to pieces from wheels to robot spleens. All of their parts lied on the floor. That is when the group heard, "Encore! Encore!" They all searched for the voice that was clapping. It was some little twerp that was yapping.
"Drazin is going to..." Drazin stopped as the twerp pulled out a gun. He pointed it into the broken store window acting as if the chaos was fun.
"Don't go and spoil things. Fact, we got off on the right foot. Fact, you are way more fun than video games. Fact, I have better aim than them and will kill you."
"Is he trying to see how many times he can say fact?" Pat perked up his ears and then smiled as he spotted spears.
"Truedessa must be leading him again."
"Yeah, he sucks on his own. I guess she saves him at the tone."
Cassie and Orlin ducked down in their box while Pat sneakily grabbed the spear gun and looked ready to hunt ox. He pointed it over Drazin's shoulder and closed his eyes. A few seconds later he opened them to find Drazin's red eyes and the twerp giving cries.
"What? I only grazed your face a little." Pat threw the spear gun away as Drazin looked like he wanted someone to pay.
Drazin marched out of the store and burst out laughing as he saw the full body of the twerp that shouted, "Encore!"
"This almost makes up for Drazin getting shot by the fleabags crazy human."
Drazin stood over Adam as he reached for his gun. His upper half of his body was normal but his bottom half was smaller than the gun. He was half mini, half large. Adam wished he had more robots to charge.
"I'll let you live here with me. Don't hurt me. that zombie shrunk by bottom half." Adam flung his hands in the air but Drazin just did not care.
"Don't let him do this."
"Hey, you said fact one too many times. And blue robots? Really?" Pat shrugged as Drazin dragged Adam away. He stuffed Adam in a closet and threw in a food tray.
"Come out of there and Drazin will string you up and use your bottom half as fish bait. Hell, the fish may not even get filled by that."
The group all chuckled as they explored the mall. Cassie and Orlin started running up and down every hall. They all felt safe for the first time since they arrived, each one glad that they had survived. They found plenty of water and food and continuously ignored the cries of Adam who said it was a fact that they were rude. They all settled in the security office and loaded up on guns, as they looked on the security feed and outside the main entrance they spotted zombie nuns.

*****************************

Dawn of the dead rip off today. At least a bit at my bay. But zombies nuns can't be beat or can the group leave them in defeat? I guess we shall see what comes to be. Now part three has come to pass, as you curse my little rhyming ass.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

That title may throw you for a loop but it works as Manzanita comes out from her chicken coop. What? Would you rather I say hut? Now on with the fun as we offend fluoride heads under the sun.

So the cat has a worm queen today.
I just checked my litter tray.
No worms are there.
Aren't you now a happy camper at your lair?

The day is young do you agreeStill lots of time for a big worm spreeWe'll see who camps happy by the setting sunWhen worms in the litter squirm by the ton

How is a day young?
Is your bell rung?
It isn't fluoride in your head,
So did you fall out of bed?

Fluoride bobble heads for the carSquishy worms in a big fruit jarDecorations make all the bells ringShrink-wrapped suit and sing, baby, sing

Wow, you must be some sort of witch.
Creating worms and fluoride heads at the flip of a switch.
Then shrink wrap them like some voodoo doll.
The shrink wrap rap could signal last call.

Eyes that flash like a railroad crossingTwo front teeth could use some flossingLast call take steps two by twoThe Shrink-wrapped doll is chasing you

Might be difficult to catch the cat,
Tripping over shrink wrap and going splat.
May need to look into new ventures,
How about, "Manzi's Sidewalk Dentures?"

No dentures yet for this old broadFluoride in toothpaste is such a fraudCat thinks he's a cheetah can win any raceBut when he loses will go down in disgrace

But if the cat is caught,
One's nostrils may rot.
It is a safe bet,
Just ask the vet.

I asked the vet and he said, Whoa,His house is in the village though"The time is here I rest my caseJust empty words from a Fluoride Head's face

And there you go, another down at my show. This time Manzi even got a new venture at her sea. Aren't I just so helpful with my rhyming glee? Oh and just so you know, no fluoride heads were harmed in the making of this show. At least not at my grass. I can't speak for Manzi or she may come after my little rhyming ass.

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

So here we are at my bar, yapping to commentators near and far, blabbing on with a big story and now for a break it's another book in all its glory. You did not think such things would stop that here at my mat?

A boy lost his toy,
It had to be an evil ploy.
He searched high and low,
Where ever did it go?

In comes a mutt,
That likes to sniff a butt.
He joins the search,
Scouting out every perch.

They look all over.
He is a helpful rover.
But they still can't find it,
The boy throws a fit.

Maybe trolls took it.
Maybe ogres for a bit.
Who really knows,
But he has to beat the foes.

Who took the toy?
Come now, don't be coy,
You can tell.
You'll just be thrown in a cell.

There we go, another book to add to my book show. 40 is drawing near. That will deserve a cheer. Will the boy find his toy? I would not bet on the mutt with gas, but that is just my little rhyming ass.

Monday, October 13, 2014

The Ninja Wannabe has come out to play, or maybe he had a clone do it at my bay. I guess one can never really tell. But even the clones added to my 100,000 comments, so what the hell.

Now the cat has a treat for thee,
It's a ninja wannabe,
He also plays guitar.
Are you secretly a big rock star?

I am a big metal rock star!Although I don't play in any bar,I jam all day on my electric Gibson,Shooting out tunes like a machine gun.

Wow, so you kill their ears?
Does that get cheers?
Or are you like G.I. Joe,
With your electric machine gun in tow?

I hear cheers at the end of every show.(Or are they cheering because I'm about to go?)The Ninja sneaks off the stage with stealth,Attacking fans are not good for my health.

The clones won't attack?
You need to send them back.
Stamp defective on their head,
Or I could just bury them in my litter bed?

Clones and litter don't really mixGets into parts I'd have to fixDefective ones - back into the machineThen they'll come out nice and clean

Do you go all Frankenstein and turn a dial?
Or is it more some sort of Matrix style?
I hope they don't get full of rust.
In Skynet do they trust?

No metal parts in these clones.They're made with flesh, skin, and bones.Must be careful when turning the dials,Or you'll have Ninja clones for miles.

So you can't throw a dog a bone,
And leave a message at the tone?
Being so careful must be rough.
Now you proved you have the rhyming stuff.

Yes the Ninja can really rhyme.Just don't ask him to imitate a mime.Now time for me to teleport,And return to my rocking Ninja fort!

See, and the ninja wannabe claims he can't rhyme. I can get everyone rhyming in their prime. It is a gift I guess. And he said it may end up a mess. I really should teach a class, adding more fame to my little rhyming ass.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

The cat was thinking the other day what if he up and croaked at his bay, then the posts would continue to go and no replies would show. Maybe a death post set a year in the future should be written. Then at least one day all would know why the cat was no longer smitten.

Then that brought on this,
Little bit of non bliss.
Might lose your breath,
With good old death.

Seems to be a dirty word,
One that people flips the bird.
Like it will get them shot,
Or make them fry in a pot.

That would be a bad way to go,
Stew for a witch at her show.
Or attacked by a killer crow.
Could happen, you never know.

A billion ways to croak.
Let that little tidbit soak.
Odds are it won't occur,
But you could even choke on fur.

Death by hairball.
That would get a cat call.
Maybe you should learn to cough them up,
It can even be done by a pup.

But then we already went down that road,
Heck, you could die on the commode.
Why is it people run in fear?
Is it in their genes when the word they hear?

Gonna happen one day.
Of course if you see danger run the hell the other way.
But just a word, oh no.
Under the bed you have to go.

Waste your time fearing death,
And you waste another breath.
One by one they add together,
And you can no longer enjoy the weather.

Unless you like the view of ground,
Or being burnt and flying around.
Then you wasted time for what you like,
So I guess you got a strike.

It will come when it comes,
So one can run and flap their gums,
Or just live the best they can until poof,
You get crushed by a faulty roof.

Think a death post is a good idea at my sea? Set it 50 years ahead with glee. Fear the word do you? Pfft is all I can say at my zoo. No time to worry about such a pass. It will come when it comes to my little rhyming ass.

Saturday, October 11, 2014

One thing the cat really hates is these human sleezeballs who try and steal information from many halls. That is just what they are sleezy scum buckets near and far. You may remember a while ago I added that Translate Your Book website to the list of things I do at my show. Well no more thanks to spammers and scammers galore.

Site was doing okay,
Nothing resulting in much pay.
But it was up and some conversing came due.
Then the spam started to spew.

5000 comments in a few days.
Wow, that just has to amaze.
All bleeping spam crap.
Spam crap across the map.

22,587 emails in 3 days.
Not exaggerating as you gaze.
Spam up the bleeping bleep.
Like to hammer each and every spam creep.

But spam is spam.
They are the equivalent of toe jam,
We all have to handle those.
Although 22,587 emails can bring woes.

Then came some more.
The spammers kicked down the door.
Now spam went to scam,
As phishing opened up the dam.

Somehow phishing bleeps got on there.
They were after personal info at many a lair.
Claiming to be banks and such.
Wanting personal info as the keys you touch.

We all get those emails claiming to be from a bank.
Then we just flush them down the loo tank.
But this was actually some redirect crap,
That tried to make many fall for their trap.

Still you could tell it was fake.
But you'd have to do a double take.
Although it could fool a few.
So bleep that bleep coming due.

Bleeping scum sucking scammers can go pound sand.
Deleted that site, stat, in my land.
Tried to get rid of them but another just came back.
The bleeps stuck to the site like a damn tack.

So to them I say bleep you.
I hope you rot in some foul smelling loo.
Ahh the joys of the internet.
It is very much hated by this pet.

Good host, good security and the like was there. But they still managed to get in by the pair. I think they even used email to phish. Dirty scum suckers can go choke on whatever they have on their dish. I don't overly care they hacked that site, as it wasn't doing a ton day or night. But the fact they used it for such acts of scam makes me wish they'd choke on their own toe jam. Traced it back to holes in the script from a Sitemile theme that was used. So NEVER EVER use that site for anything to be fused. Was used on another site I helped with as well. Guess what? Same sort of hell. Nothing but a bunch of crooks, or at least blind to such happenings, in mass. Now that rant is through toward those dirty scum bucket scammers from my little rhyming ass.

Friday, October 10, 2014

So the one with the long name can sure play the rhyming game. The cat will make that clear as we do another guest conversation with Optimistic Existentialist to celebrate 100,000 comments across my sphere.

Any thoughts you'd like to share,
When visiting today at my lair?
Like how the clouds roll,
Or things seen out on a stroll?

Ah, clouds you say? Actually I just saw a few todayI always am taken back by the shapes in a cloudI see some things I wouldn't want to say out loud

Geez, you're keeping mum?
I suppose your tongue may be numb.
After saying that big long name,
As it brings you blogger fame.

I thought of shortening the name once upon a timeBut then it had grown on me, so that would be a crimePlus it gives you a more difficult timeTrying to place it into one of your rhymes

Yeah, I suppose that is true.
You wouldn't want to be called short at your zoo.
What? That came from an instrumentalist.
Or maybe some fundamentalist.

Your rhyming skills are not to be surpassedAn array of word combinations that is impressively vastHave you ever thought of a career in rapping?I'm sure all the fans would be enthusiastically clapping

But then I'd need some bling,
The cat would eat it like a string.
That can't be good for the heart,
Any words of wisdom before you depart?

Some words of wisdom you seek?Makes me think of Yoda while I speakLive and love with all your heart, you mustAnd in your gut and intuition, always trust

Wow, you went deep.
In I'll let that seep.
But you still have one more to go,
How you going to top that at my show?

I will close by saying thank you PatAnd say hello for me to Orlin the catIt was fun engaging in this back-and-forth rhymingAfter today, my vocabulary will be climbing

Geez, another praising the cat. I could get used to this at my mat. Why didn't I do this long ago? It sure helps the old ego. Wise Yoda words came to pass, they are sure agreed with by my little rhyming ass.

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Drazin lead the way as the group searched for a safe spot to lay. The place was littered with zombies at every spot. The whole area smelled of skin rot. The group scurried around and through, avoiding the zombie spew. Orlin and Cassie wished for their bed while Drazin wondered what happened to the voices in Pat's head.
"So fleabags, did you get your human a lobotomy or something like that? He seems to be sane." Drazin whispered the best he could. Normally his voice was loud enough to shatter wood.
"The cat thinks his other stuff calmed down the voices, or maybe he has few choices."
"Drazin figures it must have been that other nut we met in that candy land fiasco, then?"
"I'm right here you know. Damn, blabbering cats." Pat shook his head as he stared around the corner in dread.
"Well you should never let us see everything if you don't want us to tell." Cassie looked like she had a grin and yelled as Pat used his foot to push her back in.
"Quiet!" Pat whispered and waved his hand, as what was passing by was a zombie band.
The zombies actually played the instruments as they staggered along, of course they did not resemble a song. It sounded more like a two year old banging on pots. It was quite loud though, as there sure were lots.
"Drazin has seen it all." Drazin shook his head and then jumped back as a zombie went on the attack. "Okay, now Drazin has seen it all."
"A Stretch Armstrong zombie? What next? A Teletubby?" Pat muttered as zombie arms fluttered.
The leader of the zombie band seem to be able to stretch his hand, and everything else for that matter. He had overheard Drazin and now wanted the group on a platter. He stopped and stretched his arms just missing Pat. His rotting toes came close to grabbing the cat. Then he stretched his neck and his head came toward the group. It got right in Drazin's face and then was turned to goop.
"And we had such a great thing going."
"Bryan, you can't beat rotting flesh and tunes."
"Drazin just can't catch a break. How do those two always find Drazin?"
Two of the zombies began to speak. It was clear to the group who they were after one peek. Bryan and Brandon, the beer guys, looked like zombies as they blended in with the pack. They had thrown a cymbal and chopped off the stretchy zombie's head. They both really looked and smelled like the undead.
The zombie band stopped playing and their heads began swaying. They turned and surrounded the pair, their flesh they wanted to tear.
"Pat, we should help them stat."
"Drazin says let them get eaten. The zombies will choke on them anyway."
"Bryan, what do you call rotten meat that can walk?"
"Do we really have time for this?"
"A miserable meal."
"See, even their jokes got lamer. Drazin thinks Drazin will avoid this."
Bryan and Brandon were surrounded by zombies and had nowhere to run. The pair just stood up looking at the sun. It was hopeless, or so they thought. Pat just smiled wide, touched his head and concentrated a whole lot. Crystal shards then began to rain down from the sky. They fell and went right through each zombies eye. In a matter of moments the zombie band was dead. Pat fell unconscious and Drazin caught him before he whacked his head.
"Damn fleabags, where did your human learn that?"
"Orlin you don't think that is why he isn't nuts?"
"Sadly I do. Now let's get out of here before we are through."
Drazin slung Pat over his shoulder and the group ran off, leaving the zombies to smolder. Bryan and Brandon stood in awe. They could not believe what they just saw. They attempted to follow Drazin and the cats but then they noticed the sky get black, filling with zombies that had wings of bats. They scurried off for cover while the zombies continued to hover.
****************************************
Brian, Mary and the rest of the dVerse crew all seemed to really have no clue. They were just slinking around hoping not to be found. It was as if Brian was running things by just gawking. The rest of them just kept following and walking and walking.
"Brian, where are we going?" Mary rubbed her feet, still pissed the zombies ate her small dogs as a treat.
"We have to get back to nature. I bet the zombies won't be there." Brian pointed straight ahead like he knew the path. The group then noticed a guy dressed as a ninja dishing out his wrath.
"Am I seeing things?"
"No, there are over fifty of him." Brian gawked and gawked some more as Alex the ninja wannabe shouted for an encore.
Alex's clones were fighting the zombie horde at his doorstep. They all seemed to have plenty of pep. His house was rather small and the lawn had overgrown. Alex just smiled always hating mowing the lawn anyway at each weekly tone.
"Rock on, clones!" Alex cheered and pretended to play his guitar. He knew if he actually played it zombies would come from lands afar. He missed being able to jam and instead, just acted like a ham.
"Damn it!" Alex shouted and pointed the way for the clones, as they all heard more zombie groans.
Another horde came from down the street. Alex's clones were starting to deplete. He got ready to flip a switch and make some more when he heard a rather large roar. He jumped off his porch and landed in the grass. A zombie with the mouth the size of a dinosaur ate his whole clone machine in mass. The zombies and clones were falling all around while Alex hid in the grass, crawling across the ground.
"I have failed you master." The last clone whined as on him the super power zombie dined.
"Brian, it is just one left. Look at all his weapons." Mary urged for them to help out, as clones and zombies lay on the ground dead as an out of sea trout.
Brian nodded and the group ran into view. They picked up whatever weapon that they first came to. Alex got to his feet and stood by their side. He struck a ninja wannabe pose with such pride.
"Any ideas on how to beat this thing?" Alex asked, now that all of his clones had been unmasked.
"One!" Brian gawked the area and came up with a plan, one in which he knew Alex would not be a fan. "Keep it busy."
The group lured the dinosaur mouthed zombie away and Brian made a break for where Alex's guitar was on display. He leaped over the rail and grabbed onto it. He strummed a few cords making the zombie have a fit.
"Nooooooo!" Alex cried, not wanting his last guitar to cross the great divide.
The zombie ran at Brian with its mouth open wide, enough drool fell out to make an incoming tide. Brian chucked the guitar in its mouth and hoped it would choke it when it swallowed and sent it south. The zombie crunched the guitar and burped it back out. Brian shrugged, running away, as Alex seemed to pout.
A spotlight appeared over the balcony and out of nowhere came Hank. He then stood with his arms on his hips declaring his rank.
"I am number one!"
Hank threw his arms in the air and then made fists by the pair. In a split second he punched into the zombie's open mouth and stunted it's growth. Hank had shoved his hands right through the back of the zombie's head and back out again, making it good and dead.
"I always knew you had special powers." Mary cheered as Hank stepped up to the group, ready to join their troop.
"That is why I never beat Hank to number one, he cheats!" Alex muttered looking over his broken guitar. He also decided to join the group from the dVerse bar.
They once again started down the street, feet steeping on zombie guts that were scattered all over the concrete. Brian pretending to know where he was going, gawking Alex's lawn thinking it really needed a mowing.
****************************************
Drazin, and the cats had found safety in a sewer cavern. Drazin wished it was a tavern. He really needed a drink after all of this. Pat was still unconscious, smiling like he was in some sort of bliss.
"So fleabags, while your human takes a nap, why don't you tell Drazin who sent Drazin away from home this time? Some letter R? Some Gawker? Some witch? Please tell Drazin it wasn't a Thinkingcap ass?"
"I have no idea at all. No one came this time to our hall." Orlin remained curled up on Pat, still the ever so rhyming cat.
"Maybe it was your fault this time, you godly mook. Who did you piss off?" Cassie stated in between licks. She really hated the guts of these zombie dicks.
"Well Drazin guesses a great god like Drazin could have ticked someone off. At least there are no whiny blue cyclops or that Irish chick here this time. Where is that nutcase your human found last time?" Drazin stirred the small fire they had started with a stick. He wondered where Truedessa was as she followed them out of candy land some slick.
"She's here." Pat muttered as he stirred, he shook his head a bit as his vision was blurred.
"Look who's awake. Drazin thinks he still must be a bit out of it. But less than usual at least."
"No! When we were sent here we somehow became one. She is within me. I think that is what is stopping all the voices in my head, and she brought forth those crystals earlier."
"Pat, do we need to open wide and suck out Jekyll or Hyde?" Orlin showed off his razor sharp claw as he stuck up his paw.
"She'll come out when the time is right, never fear. So why are we pretending to be Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, anyway?" Pat curled up his nose as the sewer sure gave his OCD woes.
The group stopped talking as the splashing of feet could be heard coming near. The cats both hid behind Pat, having a little fear. The drips of the sewer were drowned out by the splashing. At that moment the cats were all for dashing. Drazin waved his hand and muttered how they would make a stand. He then rolled his eyes as Elsie came into view and he expected her whiny cries.
Elsie stood before the group looking rather weak. She was covered in much fecal matter after having lived in this dung creek. Her one eye glared us all down. At least she was not blue this time like she was at candy land town. But she did not speak a word. All she did was flip a glaring Drazin the bird.
"Drazin will take that over your whining for that Irish chick any day of the week." Drazin smiled and played with the fire. He expected her whining to become dire.
Pat and the cats looked concerned as no retort from Elsie was returned. She sat beside Drazin soaking in the fire. He whining was not but her smell was sure dire. She then opened her mouth and the group all looked past the bacteria growth. There they could see her tongue had been ripped out. Drazin almost cheered but stopped himself from giving a shout.
"I guess you had a run in with a zombie?" Pat asked and Elsie gave a nod. She really looked like something that came from an alien pod.
"Well I guess you got the snip snip, just it was above the hip." Orlin trotted back in front of Pat, no longer being a fraidy cat.
The group sat around the fire not saying another word. Unlike Gawker Island and Candy Land this place was not as absurd. It was more deadly than before and they knew they needed to be careful if they ever wanted to make it back home to their shore. Drazin took watch listening to nothing but the sewer drips while everyone else caught some sleep and took dream land trips.
****************************************
Dr. Zoggif leaned back in his chair and just continued to stare. He was pleased with his work and could not stop himself from giving a smirk. His huge hands were interlaced behind his head. He could not wait for every blogger to be good and dead.
"There goes another one." He laughed to himself as he stared at a screen on a shelf.
The screen seemed to have blog names from all over the Earth. Even if blogs were retired or no longer had worth. Just Keepin it Real Folks had a red line now through the blog name. He was happy death had come to that dame. He watched as more and more got red lines, hoping zombies ripped out their spines.
"75% of the world's bloggers are now dead. Soon my master plan will be complete." Dr. Zoggif continued to stare at the screen while dreaming off zombies eating a blogger's spleen.

**********************

And so ends chapter two as zombies try and eat the blog crew. But why is that? Are you sticking with the cat? Is that too much rhyme that came to pass? Never too much for my little rhyming ass.

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About Me

Orlin the cat is the rhyming king, all kinds of entertainment and fun I bring. Pat sometimes gets a vote when he has something to say of note. But it is mostly the cat here at our mat. Pat is owned by my myself and Cassie, who is rather sassie. The two cats and Pat reside somewhere in Nova Scotia and "eh" isn't part of our chat. So here at Bush #5, you can balk, poke fun and just enjoy my hive. If you can't then find some sand from any land, pick it up off the ground and proceed to pound. See what fun I can be? So enjoy my sea where the absence of a plot is a plot and now that is all out of me.